


More Than Words Can Say

by TopHatCat



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Gift Giving, Grelliam, Grim Reapers, M/M, Shinigami, Slingphries, Valentine's Day Fluff, eric worries too much, kuromyu2, two cuties in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopHatCat/pseuds/TopHatCat
Summary: Eric wonders what to get Alan for Valentine's Day and struggles to write a letter.  Alan loves it (and him) nonetheless.
Relationships: Alan Humphries/Eric Slingby, William T. Spears/Grell Sutcliff
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	More Than Words Can Say

**Author's Note:**

> It's short, it's sweet, it's sappy, but it's Them and that's all that matters :) Of course I had to write my favorite OTP for this holiday. Happy Valentine's Day.

Eric didn’t know what to give Alan for Valentine’s Day.

There were flowers he could get, uncut of course, but Eric did that every for holiday. He would gift a pot of jasmine this year, which meant ‘sweet love’ or something of the like. Alan was the expert when it came to flowers and their meanings, but Eric had been around him long enough to start making a list of all the ones that represented love.

Flowers were all good and well; Alan would certainly adore them and ask for nothing more, but Eric wanted to add something else, something unique. Alan was surrounded by flowers everyday; the pretty blossoms would be appreciated, but also come as no surprise.

“Chocolates,” Grell suggested when Eric rang her to ask for ideas. “Everyone loves chocolates.”

“Ron already brought home one of those enormous boxes,” Eric sighed. “The house is overflowing with candy.”

“The _giant_ heart shaped chocolate box in the window of Ame’s Department store?” Grell asked, sounding only a little jealous. “That thing must be a treasure trove of sweets.” She made a humming sound, and Eric could almost hear her shrug over the line. “Will always gets me so many things, but nothing your little Alan would enjoy.”

Eric had been at the Spears/Sutcliff huasee one year on Valentine’s when Will returned home from shopping. The reaper’s arms had been overflowing with chocolates, parcels of clothing, shoeboxes, and bags of what could only be a ridiculously expensive amount of jewelry and makeup. For a guy who complained about the holiday being nothing more than a modern circus show of capitalism, Will did not skimp on gifts when it came to his partner. In return, Grell kept up with her paperwork for two weeks straight. For all their bluster about one another, Will and Grell knew each other well when it came time to exchange gifts.

“Yeah, Al’s not really about jewelry or clothes,” Eric admitted. “I’ll think of something.”

He’d hung up the phone and spent the next hour flipping through the department store catalog for inspiration. Nothing jumped out at him however; the candles were lame, the book titles tacky, and everything else was just an object…they were not items that carried meaning.

Then, on the last page, a brass pen set caught his eye. Not that Alan needed pens, but the image sparked an idea in Eric’s mind.

_‘What if I wrote him a poem…or a letter.’_

It would be something to open with the jasmine flower at the very least.

He had nice stationary in a drawer somewhere, so after digging around a bit, he was able to sit down at his desk with pen in hand and an empty sheet before him. The blank, pastel pink paper eyed him cheekily, as if asking what he was going to write.

 _My dearest flower,_ he began, and that was easy enough. It was the following that stumped him.

 _I love you so much_ , he wrote, but that wasn’t good enough, so he crumpled the paper and began again.

 _You are the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen,_ the pen inked out after the first line, but then he’d used the word ‘flower’ twice in the row and the words didn’t flow how he wanted them to. Instead of crumpling the page, he simply crossed out the line. So, this was to be a practice sheet then.

He practiced for eight more lines, eight more crossed-out sentences, and fifteen minutes that slowly became more and more frustrating as they ticked by. The words simply weren’t what he _wanted_ , they didn’t capture the emotions he felt…like blurry copies of a beautiful photo, they failed to show what he needed them to.

 _Why don’t I have the words to say I love you???_ he scribbled in the bottom corner before growling, “Oh, forget it,” and tossed down the pen. He tilted his head back and dragged both hands down his face in defeat. “I’ll just make supper or something!”

Shoving the chair away from the desk, he stood and grabbed his wallet from a shelf. Sesame tofu for dinner, a jasmine flower, a movie would have to do for Valentine’s Day. He’d buy the ingredients now, and Alan would be home by the time he returned. Perhaps they could share a bottle of wine as he cooked and, hopefully, he wouldn’t burn the house down.

Petting the cats goodbye, Eric switched off the lights and left.

I _IIIIII_ I

The flat was dark when Alan got home, which was absolutely perfect for what he needed to do. He was hoping Eric wouldn’t be home, giving him a chance to set out the three bottles of scotch whiskey he’d procured from the liquor store only an hour before. Turning on the lights, he went into the kitchen and took a moment to admire the white jasmine flower that sat waiting for him. Of course, Eric must have chosen it because of the meaning ‘sweet love’.

“What a sweetheart,” Alan murmured, caressing the soft petals. “It’s beautiful.”

He had his own gifts to set out, so he unpacked the bottles and put them on the kitchen island before going into the spare bedroom. Tucked in the closet was a small canvas on which was a detailed watercolor of a cozy looking tavern beside a crystal waterfall. The place was somewhere Eric had taken Alan to visit, a tavern in Scotland nearby where the reaper had grown up. Eric did not talk fondly of his time as a human, but this spot had brought a smile to his face, so Alan had done his best to recreate it from memory.

He set the painting against one of the bottles, only to realize he had forgotten to sign it. A nice ink pen would work best on the paint, so he went into Eric’s office to look for one.

Sure enough, a pen lay on the desk, but it was what was beside that caught his eye.

“What’s this then?” he asked out loud, and Potato, at his feet, thought he was talking to her and meowed in reply.

Picking the letter up, it took Alan only a short moment to realize what it was, and a flutter of emotion went through his heart upon reading the numerous lines.

_You are the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen…_

_When I look at you, my heart sings…_

_I love you more than anything…_

_Seems like a fine day to say I love you, so here I go…_

_You are the light in my darkness…_

_A more gorgeous blossom never bloomed…_

_You are brighter than the brightest star…_

_To speak the words ‘I love you’ is not enough, I have so much more to say, but the words fail me…_

_You heal me where my flaws break me…_

Alan had tears in his eyes by the final declaration of love, and he had to wipe them away to read the scrawled note at the bottom: _Why don’t I have the words to say I love you???_

“Oh, I don’t need fancy words, my dear” Alan whispered to the air, unable to keep from smiling. “A simple ‘I love you’ is more than satisfactory.”

At that very moment there came the sound of Eric’s car pulling up, and Alan quickly replaced the letter on the desk and rushed to the kitchen with the pen.

“I’m ho-ome!” he heard Eric call out loudly from the front hall only a minute later. “Let’s get this party started!”

He entered the kitchen carrying a multitude of shopping bags, but hardly had time to see the whiskey before Alan had crashed into his chest, giving him a hug so hard they nearly toppled over.

“I love you so much,” the smaller reaper said, burying his warm nose into the cold of Eric’s coat. “So much.”

“Obviously you saw the flower,” Eric grinned. “It means love, right?”

“Oh, yes, the flower,” Alan smiled up at his partner, still not letting go. “It does mean love. Sweet love.”

“Ah, the finest kind,” Eric teased as Alan finally released him, allowing the reaper to set the groceries on the table and pick up a bottle of scotch. “Malt whiskey is…the best thing. Thank you.”

“You say that about all whiskey,” Alan retorted, still feeling a buzz from the letter he wasn’t supposed to have seen. He began unpacking the bags, making note of the things that had been bought. “And you’re welcome. Are you making tofu for us?”

“Yeah, I figured- oh.”

Eric’s words had been lost in a gasp. Alan turned to see he had taken the painting in hand and was staring at it. The smaller reaper set down the bag of sesame seeds he’d been holding and twisted his fingers together nervously. “I did it from memory…I hope it’s okay.”

“It’s _awesome_ ,” Eric said. He shifted closer to Alan, wrapping him in a hug. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything so…personal for you.”

Wriggling backwards so he could look Eric in the eyes, Alan put his palms to cradle his tall partner’s face. “Eric, silly, I don’t need anything _fancy_ or extravagant to be adored by you. I know exactly how you feel. Because funnily enough,” and here he smiled, “I seem to feel the same way about you.”

Eric’s eyes softened as this sentiment was expressed to him, and he whispered, “You’re my everything, Alan.”

“Oh, Eric,” the reaper said, blinking to stop any tears. He quickly got up on his tiptoes as Eric folded him closer in his arms, pressing their lips together in a long, sweet kiss. When they pulled a few inches apart, Alan titled his head toward the table, trying to calm the swell of emotion his chest. “Now how about dinner? You’re cooking, right?”

“Only if I can have one of those bottles now,” Eric teased, and Alan rolled his eyes.

“They’re _your_ gift, love, but it’s only 4pm….”

“No time like the present,” Eric replied, but he didn’t let go of Alan quite yet, and set another, softer kiss on his hair. “My dearest flower…I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alan murmured, and rested his forehead against Eric, feeling the heartbeat beneath the shirt and skin. “More than words can say.”

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. This fic brought me so much joy to write.


End file.
